I was beginning to feel uneasy. My threats to Mrs. Bernstein, perhaps, had gone too far. Besides, the effect of the apples was passing and I longed for bed. He took a gulp. “To warn you,” he said, with a grave and ominous expression. It was a long-winded business before I got him to the point, and even then the point was not really explicit. New York, he kept repeating, was a dangerous place for inexperience, there were strange and desperate characters in it. In the end, I think, my manners exasperated him as much as his vagueness exasperated me, for when he told me he came about “someone very close to you,” and I asked point-blank, “Is it someone sharing this room with me?” his final word was a most decided “Yes”--with nothing more. This “someone,” I gathered, at any rate, was fooling me, was up to all sorts of tricks, was even “dangerous.” I was infuriated, though I felt a certain sinking of the heart as well. He was attacking either Kay or Boyde, my only friends, both of whom I trusted to the last cent, for both of whom I had sincere affection. If he knew anything definite or really important, why couldn’t he say it and be done with it? I put this to him. “I prefer not to be more explicit,” he replied with an air. He was offended. His patronizing offer of advice and sympathy, his pride, were wounded. “I would rather not mention names. It’s true all the same,” he added. And my patience then gave way. I got up and opened the door. He went without a word, but just as I was about to slam the door after him, he turned. “Remember,” he said, half angrily, half gravely, “I’ve warned you. He’s a real crook. He’s already been in gaol.” I banged the door behind him. I felt angry but uncomfortable, and as the anger subsided my uneasiness increased. The horrible feeling that there was truth in the warning harassed me. When Boyde came in an hour or so later, I pretended to be asleep. I told him nothing of my visitor, but through half-closed eyes I watched him as he moved about the room very quietly, lest he disturb my sleep. His delightful, kind expression, his frank blue eyes, the refinement and gentleness of his gestures, I noted them all for the hundredth time. His acts, too, I remembered; how he always shared his earnings, gave his help unstintingly, advice, a thousand hints, the value of his own sad and bitter experience. My heart ached a little. No, I reflected, it was certainly not Boyde who was the crook. My thoughts turned to Kay, who had just sent us half his salary. It was equally incredible. I wished I had treated my visitor differently. I wished I had kicked him out, instead of telling him to go. Sneak! A sneak with some evil motive into the bargain! Things began to move now with a strange rapidity. It was as though someone who had been winding up machinery suddenly released the spring. Item by item, preparations had been completed--then, let her go! She went....